


this ending

by daneorange (adreamaloud)



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-24
Updated: 2010-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-18 18:57:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/daneorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Emily Fitch," she just says, putting the cups in the sink. "We are too young for endings."</p>
            </blockquote>





	this ending

_So this is it_ , Emily tells herself, zipping her backpack last. She had dealt with the boxes in the living room earlier, sealing their worn flaps with packaging tape. Naomi's flat is silent; the absence of sound wraps around Emily warmly, like an old sweater.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spies something move. She doesn't turn her head, but she knows it's Naomi there, and when Emily closes her eyes she can hear that distinct tinkling of spoon against ceramic, the faint clatter of a kettle upon a stove.

Emily opens her eyes, breathes in; tugs one more time at the straps out of habit, fixes the collar of her shirt. She doesn't want to walk into the kitchen, thinking if she sees Naomi one more time she'd rip the tapes out of the boxes with her fingers, or haul her bag back upstairs and spill its contents upon the bed -- all these clothes she isn't even sure are wholly hers, in the first place.

Naomi comes out first, mug in hand. After a good while of just standing there, she finally asks, "Are you done?"

Done. Of course Emily is _done_. She takes a survey of the things she's taking with her – photographs and letters in the boxes, clothes in the bag, but then. But then, of course she _isn't_. Emily takes a look around, eyes going from corner to corner - _This used to be. You used to be._ "Yes," Emily says, nodding, trying to move despite the weight upon her chest. "I am done."

There's a slow hiss of a released breath; when Emily shifts her eyes over, Naomi's taking a sip from her mug. Naomi catches Emily's eye over the rim. "You should come in the kitchen, have a cup of tea before you go."

Naomi moves away before Emily can say anything in return; _What's a final cup of tea_ , she asks herself, their footsteps heavy upon the floor.

In the kitchen, the table is bare save for two cups set on opposite sides, a bowl of sugar between. Emily sits across Naomi slowly, like this is the last time.

Naomi sniffs a little, but on her face there are no tears. This doesn’t slight Emily, not in the least. Emily understands finally how this is not Naomi merely acting tough and nonchalant; this is Naomi now understanding why she is not staying.

So on the kitchen table, on their last day, Naomi seems agreeable, quiet. Emily puts two sugars in her tea and stirs. "I'll miss you." Naomi says it so softly that Emily has to lean in to hear better.

"What?" Emily asks.

"I said, I'd miss you." Naomi holds Emily's eyes levelly, and right there, Emily feels her resolve thinning. Emily screws her eyes shut, tells herself, _You saw this coming._

Against the torrent of things to say, Emily chooses to say nothing; chooses to keep breathing, to finish her tea quietly without choking, instead. When she is done, she pushes the cup toward the middle of the table, stands up. Naomi follows her with her eyes.

"Nothing follows?" Naomi says, gathering their cups.

"Maybe," says Emily from across the table. "Isn't that how endings are?"

Just then, Naomi smiles - just a small one, a tired one, but a smile, nevertheless. "Emily Fitch," she just says, putting the cups in the sink. "We are too young for endings."

It's the sort of thing that makes Emily want to just come rushing at her with arms outstretched, ready to pull her in and kiss her hard; sometimes, Naomi gets this exceptionally insightful that Emily sees, all over again, the girl Naomi was before all this happened -- sees that lake, those bikes, that summer again, like a temporary flash of blinding light.

For a moment, Emily stands there and feels this familiar trembling, this thudding in her chest, and suddenly she's _that_ girl again as well, taking a phone call and suggesting the lake.

And then, blinking, she comes back to this: Naomi's new kitchen, this strange new life, and she says just that. "You say the strangest things." But she smiles as she walks slowly back to the living room and touches the dulled corners of her boxes, one by one. _What's the rush_ , she asks herself, sitting down and staring at an illuminated spot on the floor, hit by sunlight from between the drapes. _There's time, take it._

And she does.

(In the kitchen, Naomi turns the faucet on, and Emily closes her eyes, focusing on the sound.)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for immortality's prompt (Skins, Naomi/Emily, canon in d major; end title, Shawshank Redemption OST) in the [Awesome Ladies Ficathon](http://hazyflights.livejournal.com/199061.html)


End file.
